A/N: Hey folks! Thanks for making it this far. This one is a little bit shorter as we transition into the next phase of the story. New chapters every Sunday.
The gentle breeze of the open air crawls onto my face, welcoming the change in scenery. Amycus Carrow had locked up the Astronomy Tower after having Professor Sinistra dismissed for summoning owls- something about sneaking in letters after unapproved post had been banned. Everyone was aware of the punishments that awaited them if they tried to trespass, so the Carrows stopped patrolling the entrance within days. The lonely space was left behind to anybody who dared to risk it.
My first creep up the stairs had been only hours after the Carrows closed it off. I thought that coming back would give me closure to the failed tasks that called the Astronomy Tower their home. I found peace instead. The view of the Great Lake was intoxicating, as if it promised a place to keep all my secrets. It had pulled me back, visit after visit, and I found my mind swimming around the depths like a quiet embrace.
"The Dark Lord would be disappointed to see you displaying such weakness, Draco."
I jump, startled from silence's interruption. The familiarity in Snape's tight drawl permits me to relax my body back into the stiffness of my seat.
"Yeah, and who is going to tell him?"
Snape locks his jaw into place and analyzes the misery laid out in front of him before boring his black eyes into mine. A sharpness intrudes on my skull as he penetrates my mind, and I watch as he reminds me of the emptiness of seeing him kill Dumbledore in the very spot where I sit. My head continues to flutter brutally as he sees more of my memories. A flash of wiping away tears. Another where Mother covers me with a blanket and darkens the room, only to rush back hours later after my reaction to nightmares wake her up.
I drop his glance, sending my eyes back out to the water for comfort. He doesn't hesitate to continue as if the challenge of losing my eyesight has strengthened his desire to keep pushing.
He snakes his way down more corridors as I give in to the pressure and let my limbs go weak. He pulls the memory of terrorizing a Ravenclaw student. I had used the Cruciatus curse on Terry Boot earlier that month, letting Blaze and Pike watch. I even tried to get them to join in, too. Fortunately, they rejected the offer and left in time to miss my subsequent vomiting. I can sense Snape's surprise at the fun, confirming that Boot hadn't ratted me out.
With a roll of his eyes, Snape drops the spell and gives me a moment to catch my breath and mind. I picture Boot falling into the frigid waters, and I send Blaze and Pike there too for good measure.
"One look at you, and the Dark Lord would be privy to all of it. Try harder to keep me out next time, or it might be the last chance that you get."
"What's it to you, anyway? It's not like it makes a difference. Dumbledore is gone. You don't have to babysit me anymore."
"Just try harder, Draco."
And with a silent turn of his heel, I am alone again.
Severus Snape died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Severus Snape died in the Battle of Hogwarts.
The question of whether it is a thought or a theory intrudes the repetition playing in my head as a vision of Snape walking inside behind Valencia turns into hope. Or fear. I cannot discern which.
"Severus Snape is dead," the Chief Warlock announces, shaking my thoughts away from Hogwarts.
"Yes, and I would have been, too, if I hadn't arrived in the nick of time. Unbreakable vows and all that. What do you think, Armus? Think you'd have been out of here after three, maybe four minutes of trial time?"
The Chief Warlock's name, Armus, flies through the hallways of my mind, landing in Ravenclaw Tower so that I don't forget it later. It's the idea of Snape convincing a woman to make an Unbreakable Vow over me that I don't know what to do with or where to store it. Meanwhile, Granger appears to keep the new information plastered over her splotchy face. I wonder what Snape would say about her ability to hide emotions.
"Two minutes tops, considering all the evidence against Mr. Malfoy here."
Valencia smirks, pleased for the opportunity to keep going.
"Oh yes, all of the evidence of crimes that he committed as a child, Your Honour. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy might deserve 'Child Endangerment' on their paperwork. Still, I hardly believe that a Wizarding Court of Law like the one in front of me would be so barbaric as to send a boy to Azkaban for life just for trying a little bit too hard to please Daddy."
"I know that you're not suggesting that witches and wizards deserve to walk free after supporting Voldemort. That is unless you fancy another war by the time a future child has the chance to cast the Cruciatus Curse in order to please Draco Malfoy."
"And I know that you're not suggesting we ignore Draco Malfoy's rights to a fair trial," Valencia says, stopping Armus from spending any more time pretending like he knows how I'd raise a child.
"What are your demands?"
A smile forms on Valencia's lips, and she nods as if she's already won.
"12 months to prepare for a trial, where we have the opportunity to plead his case. We'll keep the boy in Malfoy Manor, of course. I like to think that he's spent far too many days in Azkaban already."
"6 months. And if he's going back there, then we're keeping his wand."
Words around us transform from whispers to shouts, and it becomes clear that the rest of the Wizengamot isn't responding to Valencia as pleasantly as Armus.
"QUIET," he bellows, demanding order. It's like a silencing charm follows it as the hush falls onto the room.
"Draco Malfoy, do you consent to these proceedings?"
It's only when I catch Granger's questioning eyes that I realize we're back to me as if I'm not just a prop in their courtroom.
"Whatever," I manage.
"Whatever," Armus starts with a scoff. "Collins, it sounds like you're in for a few months of pulling teeth. Keep an eye out for our Owl with a date and time for Mr. Malfoy's trial. Until then, you're both dismissed."
Folks around the room start rising. Half push their way out the front door, whisking behind me for the exit. I catch Granger handing Floo powder to the rest, beginning with Armus, as they take their turns leaving. She's the last of them left.
"Erm, would you be needing any?" She asks, hesitating as she comes closer to us.
"Sorry, dear?" Valencia asks.
"Floo powder, Miss Collins." Granger holds the bag out for her to see. "You may use this fireplace unless you'd like to face the Daily Prophet waiting for you outside."
"Oh yes, of course."
Valencia turns to me for the first time since she walked in. I wonder if I should speak or even thank her for coming, but no words come out. Her presence feels like relief and torture wrapped together, though the thought of sleeping in my old bed is too tempting to dwell on the latter. For now, at least.
"Ready to go, Draco?" She offers a smile, which instantly warms her previously icy demeanor.
"Whatever," I can't help but say.
"I'll go first. You understand that you'll be sent back to Azkaban if you do not follow me?"
She grabs powder from Granger's outstretched hand as I nod.
"Malfoy Manor," she shouts, dropping the Floo powder into the fireplace and letting the flames lick her away.
Granger's eyes drop to my hands, and she juts out her chin to signal that it's my turn. I hold a palm out for her to put the Floo powder onto. The bag pours from inches above as if she's being careful not to touch her fingers to mine.
Our eyes meet while I step into the fireplace. As I visualize the home I'm to call out to, a flash of Granger's body bleeding on the marble floors enters my head. I see it burn behind her eyes, too, as I drop the powder and find my way home.
"Master!"
A shout comes from below my line of sight as the dust settles, and I feel pressure wrapping around my left leg. The house elf hugs me in excitement.
"I is thinking that I would never see Master again," he sobs, uncharacteristic for the months that we spent at the cottage together.
"I didn't think that we would find one here," Valencia says, appearing in front of me. "Your mother freed all of the Malfoy Manor elves before the Battle of Hogwarts."
I nod like it's not new information to me. "He came with us while we were in hiding."
"Ah, of course. Next time we meet, I'd like to hear all about your little hideaway."
The air between us turns awkward and unsure of how to proceed. Visions of falling into a comfortable bed cloud my ability to start a conversation.
"What's the elf's name?" Valencia eventually asks, and it hits me that I don't know. Never bothered to ask.
"Tomsy, missus," the elf pipes up, as if knowing I'd lack the ability to answer.
"Okay, Tomsy. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Please clear up one of the studies for me before then," she instructs. Tomsy looks up at me for approval, wondering if she's somebody he can take orders from.
"Whatever she says."
"Oh, and I take my coffee black. I'd like one waiting for me when I arrive."
The demanding courtroom persona comes back to the surface, and I can't help but wonder what type of witch has tangled herself into my life. Knowing that the decision came from Snape only makes more sense as she continues to list off requirements to the elf, politely but insistently. She rattles off meeting times to him as I wonder if my bed has been kept clean.
"Draco, did you get all of that?" She breaks me out of a trance.
"No, but I'm sure that Tomsy did."
"Right. I'll be here tomorrow. Maybe consider taking a shower before then. And just try not to go blasting unforgivable curses on kids while I'm gone, yeah?" She jokes, and I wonder if I should laugh or cry.
She is out of the hall within moments, and the sudden weight of an empty manor hits me in the chest. The last months of living here were filled with Death Eaters marching about, along with constant surprises by Voldemort, who would drop by just to intimidate us. The air is still cold from his long-gone presence.
My feet surprise me by racing up to my old bedroom, and Tomsy is not far behind.
"Tomsy was not knowing you would be back so soon, Master Draco, but Tomsy is keeping your bed clean for you."
He stands in the hall outside of my room as I step into it, senses hit with the familiar scent of mahogany and fresh linens. He sways back and forth on his heels as I look back, desperate for more instructions. Loneliness must have been tough on him, too.
"That'll be all for tonight, erm, Tomsy. You can go do whatever Miss Collins has asked you to do."
He slinks off down the hall to the sound of my bedroom door slamming shut. I am suddenly more grateful for him when I turn to see the bright green blanket that I sent him here with so many months ago sitting on my bed. I fall into it, clutching the fabric against my face. The comforting smells of lavender and sugar wash over me, and exhaustion takes its hold as I collapse into a deep sleep.